Cat Burglar in Training (8 page)

“Full of beans,” Kahu said.

“Amber!” Hannah hollered out the kitchen window. “I’ve got some lettuce leaves for the rabbits. Would you like to feed them now?”

My chaperone flew off into the kitchen. Isolated with Kahu, my heart skipped a beat.

“Alone at last.” Kahu sat and scooted his plastic chair nearer to me, close enough that warmth from his hard thigh burned through my black trousers.

Breathing. I’d noticed it become a problem whenever I was in his vicinity. Something about him zapped the oxygen from the air, leaving me panting. Yep, that was the problem. I refused to entertain an alternative.

“Did you want to question me about Perdita Moning?”
Focus. Ask relevant questions. Worm information from the man.
“Are you close to solving the crime?”

His teasing smile faded. “We have a few leads. I came to ask you out to dinner.”

Guilt made me glance toward the kitchen. Three shadowed silhouettes stood at the window, peering out at us. No surprise there. “Dinner?” I repeated, stalling.

“Yeah, you know. Man. Woman. Table. Food.”

Longing to experience a slice of normal nipped at me. The man knew I had a child, and he was still asking me out. The cynical devil who’d taken up residence in my soul shrieked loud warnings.
He thinks you’re desperate
.
A surefire bet for some fun in the sack.

“I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. I have…a meeting.” I managed to meet his gaze without hesitation. Part of me knew gentle discouragement was the right way to respond. He presented too many problems.

“I know it’s short notice. Another night?”

“Are you still going to the Harlequin Ball?”

“Yeah, I’m going.”

My gaze drifted to his sensuous lips. I found myself leaning toward him, attracted like a magnet to metal. Mortified, I froze in place. “I’ll see you there.”

“That’s a promise.” His words whispered across my mouth, and he moved in, closing the slight gap between us. Warm lips covered mine, and all logical brain function ceased.

“You were kissing him!”

“Give the man a prize,” I snapped. Father took a deep breath, no doubt ready to lay down the law about what good cat burglars did and didn’t do. I was in no mood for lectures. “Sit. Please.” I gestured for Ben and Hannah to take seats in front of the desk beside Father.

After deliberation, I’d decided to have the meeting in the office, and I wasn’t above using subtle power plays. I sat at the other side of the huge oak desk, a blank paper pad in front of me and a pen in my right hand ready to take notes.

“Right,” I said. “A list of bills. Hannah?” She handed me a wad of invoices. I flicked through them, trying not to wince at the totals. The mobile phone bill was particularly high. “Ben?” He handed over four invoices. “Father?”

Sullenly, he handed over a pile of invoices. One or two looked as if he’d rescued them from the rubbish. I studied them, partially anesthetized to the amounts now. “Is this all?”

“Yes,” Father said.

“I can’t see an invoice from Beauchamp.”

Father muttered under his breath and climbed to his feet. He stomped from the room.

Theatrics.

Just what I needed. I ignored the distant slamming of doors and pulled out a calculator. The office remained silent apart from the rustle of papers and the tap of calculator keys. The final total seared my eyeballs. I blinked to clear my vision. Same total. I thumped the cancel button and started again. Meantime, Father clomped back into the office.

“Here.” He shoved a flimsy sheet of paper at me.

A statement.

The zeros wavered in front of my eyes. Aghast, I sent an accusing glare at my father. “This is more than half a million.”

“Interest.”

“Tell me you’ve made progress investigating the garden thefts. We need the reward money.”

“Not as much progress as you’ve made with the cop. I thought you’d marry Seth. He’s a wealthy solicitor. He could help us with our debts.” Father’s tone bordered on snide—a sulky child having a temper tantrum.

“There’s nothing to stop you finding a rich bride,” I countered sweetly.

Father’s provoking tone signaled opinions from others in the room. They seemed to think the winner in this competition would be the one who shouted the loudest.

I ignored the verbal knives to concentrate on forming a plan to keep Oakthorpe and my family out of trouble. My family was important to me. Very important. Even if they argued, told me I was stupid, and stomped about muttering and cursing, I knew when things were bad they’d be there for me in a heartbeat.

I coughed loudly to restore the peace. When this failed, I held my fingers to my lips and let out a piercing whistle. Each of the terrible trio turned to gawk at me, their mouths hanging open in imitation of gaping clowns like the ones in the carnival sideshows.

“I’ve done the sums.”

“And?” Hannah said.

No point hiding the truth. “The change out of a million won’t keep Amber in sweets for a week.”

Father’s shoulders slumped and the way he rubbed his knee and right hand when he thought no one would notice told me his arthritis was giving him jip. Ben seemed just as defeated.

“Here’s the plan,” I said. “We need to cut back on household expenditure, especially phone. Text and use the land line where possible. No more expensive whisky either. We’ll sell our surplus produce at the farmers’ market, and I want you and Ben to keep up your investigation.” While I didn’t hold out much hope they’d have success, at least it would keep them out of mischief. “Meanwhile I’ll see if Seth’s mother can give me a couple more days’ or nights’ work.”

“What about me?” Hannah asked.

“Internet research and watching out for Amber. Maybe you could make some jams or chutneys to sell at the market, too, if you have time.” I was pleased to note all three had cheered after having a task assigned.

“I’ll also carry on with Shadow duties,” I said grudgingly.

My father perked up even more. “Ben and I have a lead for a possible job.”

“Yes?” A note of caution crept into my voice.

“The people who moved into the old Ledbetter estate.”

“The pop stars?” Hannah asked.

Father nodded. “Exactly so. More money than sense. Although why they get paid for their god-awful wailing, I’ve no idea.”

Ben snorted. “They’ve made a right mess of renovating the Ledbetter mansion. They call it modernizing. Butchery, more like.”

“Details,” I said, cutting in before the conversation diverged even further. “What sort of jewels? Do we have any orders, or can I steal on spec?” Although I’d hesitated over the word
steal,
there was no point dressing it up.

“Rubies are still in demand. Grab those if you see them, but if something else snares your attention, pick that up too. The lead singer’s girlfriend likes to collect baubles. Word is she prefers diamonds but accepts colored stones too,” Father said.

I checked my watch. “I have time to do a recon tonight.” From the corner of my eye, I noticed both Father and Ben brighten with hope. I decided to throw them a bone. “Would you like to come with me? It would speed things up if the three of us divide up the property.”

Hannah gave an approving nod while the two men beamed like schoolboys anticipating a treat. A sense of rightness enveloped me. Letting them come along was the right thing to do.

We parked the Mini about half a mile from the Ledbetter estate and made the rest of our way on foot, dressed in dark clothes to blend with the night.

The estate was originally Georgian with grounds designed by Capability Brown. We made our way past an ornamental pond and a faux temple, through a stand of oak before coming to a halt. The trees gave way to sweeping vistas in front of the house. In the faint moonlight, the scaffolding glinted like an exposed ribcage. Father was right. The modern additions offended my eye. I couldn’t wait to see the interior. Visions of velvet wallpaper, mirrored ceilings and large heart-shaped beds popped into my mind.

“Split up and meet back here in half an hour. I’ll go to the right. Father, you take the left. Ben, you can check out the security on the driveway.”

Father and Ben both nodded. I adjusted my ski mask to screen my face and scanned the lawn in front of us. In a tree behind me, an owl hooted, the sound low and mournful. A premonition? Uneasily, I scanned the open ground again. Would I ever be at ease with the family occupation? I liked to hope so since, with the huge debt hanging over us, there were no other options.

Father and Ben moved from the protective cover of the trees. Still the sense of unease remained. I scanned the area again and saw a figure flit past a window, ducking low to avoid detection by the residents of the house.

Both Father and Ben froze, seeing what I’d noticed. The figure darted around the corner and disappeared from sight. As one, we melted back into the cover of the trees.

“Who the hell was that?” Father summed up the situation in a few terse words.

“Common garden thief?” Ben asked, scanning the area where the mystery person had disappeared.

Father’s frown ran the width of his face. “We need to find out.”

“Okay, what’s the plan?” Although I was now the Shadow, I didn’t mind taking advice. Father and Ben had years of experience between them, handed down by my grandfather and Ben’s father and their fathers before them. If I had to take over the family mantle, I intended to do a good job.

“We need to get closer. Watch and assess the damage. Once we know what we’re dealing with we can go from there.” Father fairly vibrated with the need to investigate.

“Let’s go.” I took one step from the shelter of the trees and stopped. “Take care.”

We merged into the shadows, separating again on the open lawn area.

There was a camera under the eaves in front of me. I made a note of the location on the map inside my head. A pleasant jingle-jangle buzzed through my veins when I edged along the scaffolding and eased into the shadows. The soft sound of a foot scuffing the ground alerted me to a presence heading in my direction. I hunkered down and waited.

A man flitted past, not more than a few feet away. Dressed in black and wearing a mask that covered his whole face, he could have been my twin. My heart sank. This was no amateur. The way he held himself, the way he moved with confidence told me he’d researched the property and knew it intimately. I noted the small nylon bag he carried. It bulged. The cat had completed his night’s work.

I waited for ten minutes until I was sure he wasn’t going to return, then darted along the side of the building.

An open window on the ground floor signified the cat’s method of entry. Surely he wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave it open? That would attract attention. An owl hooted and a shiver worked down my spine even as I cupped my hands around my mouth and made an answering call. Father and Ben joined me minutes later.

“Did you see him?” Father asked.

“The cheek of him, horning in on our territory,” Ben fumed.

I didn’t have the heart to remind him that we ranged over a wide territory. The other man probably didn’t know of my existence, especially since I thought the police assumed the Moning thefts related to Perdita’s murder. The cops certainly hadn’t mentioned the window I’d broken to enter the Monings’ home.

Father and Ben continued to mutter. I cut in with a reality check. “We might as well continue with the skullduggery. The cat’s left us a window of opportunity.” I gestured up at the open window with my head. “What do you think? Should I go in?”

Father stared up at the window, his eyes narrowed in consideration. Although I’d already made my decision—I was going in—the show of tact made Father and Ben feel like a valuable part of the team.

“I think you should,” Ben said.

Father nodded agreement. “We don’t know what the man took. It’s possible we could salvage something and come away with a prize.” His eyes gleamed, and I held back an answering grin. “I’m guessing the lights are on timers. That will make your sortie easier.”

“Let’s do it,” I said, the slow burn of adrenaline making itself felt. I worried about addiction to the thrill and forced the thought away to immerse myself in the situation. I needed to apply everything I’d learned from Father and Ben.

The inside of the gutted home was every bit as bad as the outside suggested. Strips of the Victorian-period rose wallpaper lay in tattered piles on the floor. White sheets shrouded the remaining furniture. Cautiously, I slid my leg over the sill and slipped into the room. Immediately, I became aware of a faint thumping—the sort of noise stereo speakers make when someone switches them up too loud.

I crept into a passage. As I neared the end, I realized the thumping was my hosts practicing. Up close, the music didn’t sound much better, but at least it was keeping the occupants busy. I drifted through a series of rooms, adding details to my mental map. At the bottom of a flight of stairs, I hesitated. If I met someone walking down, I was in trouble. No, I’d risk it. The longer I dallied inside, the greater the danger of discovery.

My lips curled upward in a mocking sneer, the dark humor directed inwardly. Hopefully I wouldn’t meet another dog. The teeth marks on my butt were still visible—an embarrassing reminder, and I’d no desire to repeat the undignified experience.

The second floor was untouched at present. Victorian wallpapers still covered the walls. The visible furniture appeared modern. Lighting was poor, and I slowed to allow my eyes to adjust. Several doors led off the landing. I chose the second one at random. A strong perfume assaulted me—something heavy and seductive, reminiscent of the Orient. I held my nose until the tickling in it faded. Not the time to sneeze. Taking slow, easy breaths through my mouth, I stepped through the door and pulled it to after me so it was slightly ajar, ready for a quick exit.

My eyes adjusted rapidly. An empty bed. I flicked on my torch and shone it across the dresser. A jumble of expensive makeup containers and perfume bottles littered the surface.

I slid a drawer open and came up empty. Our mysterious friend had already relieved the inhabitant of her glittery baubles. I switched off my torch, blocked another sneeze and edged through the door, back onto the landing. I checked the rest of the rooms. All were empty apart from the last one where a baby lay in a crib. I checked my watch. Already, half an hour had elapsed. Father and Ben would be restless. I decided to do a quick sweep of the downstairs rooms farthest away from where the musicians were playing and call it a night.

I approached the stairs with caution and hurried down once I knew the foyer and the landing were clear. I ignored the room with the open window and tried the others. The kitchen. A small pantry off the kitchen. The door at the far end of the passage past the kitchen was closed. I hesitated, unsure of whether to proceed or not. Not a scrap of light shone under the door but that didn’t reassure me. The door handle was metal. I bent to one knee and peered through a keyhole. Shit. I couldn’t see a thing.

Tightening my lips, I reached for the handle. The loud creak made me whisper a curse. In the almost silent house, it sounded like the crash of thunder. Tense, I opened it.

Eep!
A broom jumped out at me, hitting me on the shoulder.

“Bloody hell.” I shoved the broom back, hands jerky with nerves, and locked the door.

I ghosted into the formal entranceway, my soft-soled shoes noiseless on the Italian marble tiles. Once again, the lights were on. I approached with caution, sliding against the painted wall and peeping around the corner before I stepped into the spacious dining room.

Holy Hannah! Queen Victoria would turn in her grave or at least run screaming for bolts of material to hide the naked nymphs cavorting on the walls. The interior designer had taken inspiration from Italy, using terracotta tones, furniture with spare lines and sculptures. I scanned the walls. Apart from the wall with the mural, they were bare. Strange. I took a closer look. Two small tacks were embedded in the wall—about the right distance apart to support a medium-sized painting. The burglar hadn’t taken the framed pictures with him, but I’d bet he’d appropriated several rolled canvases.